Biting Cold

Stuck in a snowstorm, a house appears, containing your saviour. You think.

* * *

The cold was biting at your nose, and your ears, as you took another step through the snow. You were shivering, and your coat was soaked through. You held your arms around you tightly. What a day for a nice quiet walk. It had started out pleasantly. Then the weather had turned.

You thought you heard something on the howling wind. A voice. You blinked, suddenly aware of the bright lights of a warm, cozy house on your left. You couldn’t remember seeing it before, but the weather must have been obscuring it. You hurried forwards.

As you got to the door the weather seemed to worsen, a thick blanket of snow was whirling through the air just behind you. But the house’s warmth, oozing from the windows in a soft orange glow, was enough to stave off the cold. As you raised a hand to knock, the door opened.

The person on the other side of the door was smiling, but blocking the door way. You looked up at them. “P-p-please let me-me-me in.” You managed to say, through chattering teeth. They nodded, and stepped aside. You took off your coat, which they took from you.

“It was good that I managed to drop by, another minute and you might have started to lose your fingers.” They said. Their voice was melodic. “Come, warm yourself by the fire, would you like some hot cocoa?” You nodded, and with surprising speed, they thrust a mug into your hands.

As they knelt down by the fire to poke it, you got a good look at them, finally. Angular features, and eyes that were slightly too large. It put you on edge, but you couldn’t tell why. Maybe you were still suffering from the cold. They turned to look at you.

“Sorry, but I don’t know what to call you. Could you give me your name?” They had stood, and were offering a hand. Taking it, and shaking, you told them your name. And something changed. You felt – something slip away from you. They were smiling. “Good. I will call you toy.”

That seemed right. A soft fog was coating your mind, almost like the cold snow from outside was melting into steam, and coating your brain. No thoughts. No thinking. A toy didn’t need to think. They knelt down before you, and their eyes seemed to shimmer.

You were stuck, staring into those whirling vortexes of colour, you could feel your jaw going slack. Feel your mind relaxing. Feeling your body unwinding. No thinking. Toys don’t think. And you are their toy. That’s all you need to be. All you want to be. Always.